That Kind of Girl
by mhd123
Summary: Liz quits TGS at the end of "Pilot," but she can't quite escape the show and the people around it.


**Note:** This story occurs in an alternate universe where Liz quit the show at the end of "Pilot."

Like most other Friday nights, Liz sat down on her couch to watch _TGS_.

Well, not _her_ couch. _Their_ couch. Hers and Dennis's. When Liz quit what was then _The Girlie Show_, to protest at Pete's firing and get away from the insane new executive, Jack Donaghy, she found she couldn't afford even her modest Manhattan apartment anymore. Craving social contact in the absence of her old work environment, she'd fallen back on the easiest option: getting back with Dennis. And when she'd mentioned her difficulties making rent, Dennis jumped at the chance to invite her to move in with him.

The guy had more than his share of flaws, but he _genuinely liked_ her. That was something, wasn't it?

Although Mr. Donaghy had transformed the show almost beyond recognition - adding Tracy Jordan, removing Liz and Pete's influence, and renaming it _TGS with Tracy Jordan_ - Liz still had a sense of ownership of the show, as if her baby had grown up and she was watching it go out in the world.

There was that word again - baby - was it time for her to have a baby?

And she had to admit that Frank wasn't terrible at running the writing staff. A lot of the sketches lacked polish,and there were more screw-ups than during her tenure to be sure, but the show was consistently pretty funny. Tracy Jordan had reinvigorated the show, and Liz often thought about the things her scripts could have done with his brand of humor.

Dennis came in from the kitchen with two bowls of chili. One thing she loved about him was when she'd come in from a tough night directing at the Improv Troupe, or teaching writing at the community college, or working on the various writing projects she could never seem to get finished, and see Dennis there with a warm bowl of comfort food.

"Hey Dummy, has your show started yet?"

On the other hand, there was the way he called her dummy.

What was frustrating about her writing is that she kept coming up with sketches. She'd often have writers' block when she worked at 30 Rock, but now the ideas just kept coming. Some of them she could adapt for the improv group, but for the most part they fit better with TGS. The book ideas and screenplays she was trying to write, well, those were nowhere to be found in that frustrating brain of hers.

One tough thing about having two jobs and writing was that she didn't get much time to watch TV. She even couldn't watch TGS live, instead waiting till she got home from Improv.

"So Liz... I've been thinking and, uh... you have a really good heart, and I haven't dated anyone so cool since that chick Jamie back in high school, who had huge boobs... anyway, we're not getting any younger, and I think this is working pretty well. So, uh, will you marry me?"

Dennis flipped open a jewelry box. There was a _big_ diamond. Liz involuntarily gasped.

"That's actually just a costume ring. It's a stand-in, cuz my buddy Colt hooked me up with a great deal on a..." he searched for the word. "conflict' diamond, I think. Anyway, I'll get it as a soon as his cousin in Jersey talks to his pal at the Port Authority..."

Liz held up her hand. "I don't want to hear it."

And for once, Dennis shut up for a second and let her think.

Things were pretty comfortable with Dennis. She'd thought her life had turned a corner when she'd gotten _The Girlie Show_. She'd become a success, an insider, and would have money and access to a better class of people. But that had turned out to be only half a season, and once again she was on the outside looking in. New York was littered with people who had had a brief shot at the spotlight and spent their lives trying to get back there. She was almost 37, and both her fertility and her marketability in the entertainment world were fading fast. Maybe she'd peaked, and it was time to accept her gentle decline into mediocrity.

After a long pause, Liz answered. "Yeah, OK." She softly smiled afterwards to generate a little more enthusiasm.

"That's awesome. You won't regret this." He pointed his finger at her to add emphasis at the end.

He kissed her. It wasn't Saturday night, but Liz had sex with him. It was a special occasion.

**

It was mid-afternoon the next day when Liz called Jenna. By then, she would certainly be home from whatever she'd done the previous night.

"Dennis? Oh, Liz..."

"C'mon Jenna, he's a nice guy."

"Even though you're a brunette and a non-celebrity, you can do better. Not _Dennis_. You can have something like what Jack and I have."

"You mean be the booty call for a rich guy?"

"_First_ booty call. I'm the first one he goes to when his date that night doesn't put out..."

Liz moaned.

"...or if they need a third."

"AGGH!" Liz knew that sound would be Jenna's signal to stop.

"Jenna, please just be happy for me."

"Fine. Congratulations, if that's what you want."

"Thank you."

**

A few days later, Liz dropped off something of Frank's at 30 Rock. Donaghy had put Kenneth the page in as the producer. Liz didn't know Kenneth that well, but it didn't seem to be a very successful promotion, judging from the general sense of chaos.

Jack Donaghy happened to be on the elevator going down.

"Mr. Donaghy."

"Ms. Lemon."

"You put _Kenneth_ in charge? How's that working out for you?" she asked with a bit of a laugh.

"He... requires mentorship. But he's doing alright."

"Uh huh."

Jack looked her over and inhaled. "Lemon, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Aha. So he was going to come crawling back. "Sure, OK."

"So.. Astacio's? Around 8?"

"See you then."

**

The first ten minutes of dinner was filled with uncomfortable small talk. Liz wasn't sure if she was looking forward more to the food arriving or to Donaghy finally getting down to business.

"Is this how you usually dress on dates?" Jack didn't sound mean, but instead genuinely flabbergasted.

Liz defensively grasped her blazer. It was a nice restaurant, but she'd dressed more business-formal than date-formal. "What? Is this a date?"

"What did you think it was?"

"A business meeting."

Jack was incredulous. "A business meeting about _what?_"

"Never mind," Liz said sheepishly. "And anyway, I'm engaged."

"You're not wearing a ring."

"Well, there's a problem with the... forget it. It's not important. And none of your business."

Jack smirked. She _hated_ that.

Dinner hadn't even arrived yet. Liz saw an uncomfortable evening ahead, and thought about fleeing, but she was really hungry and the lobster she ordered sounded really good.

Against her expectations, with the pressure now off on both sides, Jack was really pleasant to talk to; not pleasant in an inoffensive, bland way, but exciting, as if it was an adventure to discuss things with him. He was sharp, curious, and engaging. It's called charm, she thought to herself, and she allowed herself to notice for the first time that Jack was a very handsome man.

Who had asked her out on what he thought was a date. _That_ was weird.

"So tell me about this fiancee of yours."

"Who? Dennis?"

"If that's his name."

"I don't know. We've been seeing each other on or off for a couple of years. He proposed to me last week."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"What does he do?"

"He sells... uh... personal communications solutions."

"Like... cellphones?"

"No. Beepers."

Jack stifled a laugh.

"OK, OK, get the 80s jokes out of your system. I've heard them all."

"I'm sorry." Jack collected himself. "It's just that you strike me as someone who could do better than a beeper salesman who can't get you a proper engagement ring."

Liz opened her mouth to tell him to buzz off, but something stirred in her before she did. Jack was right. Dennis was terrible, and she always thought she could do better. Not that she was getting good offers, at least until today. Well, sort-of-good offers. She reminded herself that Jack Donaghy was a bad man.

"Well.. shall we?" The check paid (He'd refused her offer to split it, luckily. The lobster was expensive), Jack indicated he was ready to go.

"Yeah." Jack's hand instinctively went to the small of her back and led her out the door.

Outside, Liz turned to him. "Thanks for dinner."

"My pleasure." He gave her a look that made her melt a little bit inside.

Liz winced as something occurred to her. "You're not going to call Jenna now, are you?"

"I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I told you my immediate post-date plans. Do you need a ride home?"

"No thanks, I'll just get a cab."

After a beat, he reached into his suit pocket and produced his business card. "Here's my card. Give me a call if your 'engagement' doesn't work out." He put air quotes around 'engagement' in a way that she found simultaneously annoying and cute. Jack touched the side of her arm and gave her that look again. "See you around."

Liz waved at him with her fingers as he turned to walk away. She stared at the card for a minute and absentmindedly put it in her purse.

It was two weeks later that Liz, innocently sitting down to have a bowl of chili and watch some _Dateline_, saw Dennis on "To Catch a Predator." It was the last straw. She left him that night, gave back the ring (the "real" one had yet to materialize, anyway) and moved in with Jenna the next day.

Although Jenna's continuing association with _TGS_ sometimes made Liz sad, it was good to be back in Manhattan and back with her friend. Jenna had started a relationship with a new guy. This was bad news: it meant Liz had to deal with him hanging around their apartment, the funny noises coming from Jenna's bedroom, and finding various items lying around the house, items she couldn't begin to understand but that she assumed were sex toys.

On the other hand, Jenna had broken off (who had ended it? Liz wasn't sure) whatever it was she shared with Jack. For reasons she couldn't explain, that gave Liz a warm feeling.

It must be because Jenna's relationship with him wasn't good for her. Yes, that was it.

Late one Thursday night, Liz was digging through her purse and stumbled on Jack's card. She studied it for a long minute, twirling it around in her hand. It couldn't hurt, she thought. She could use a night out.

She picked up the phone.

**

Liz normally wouldn't go through that much effort for a date, but after showing up to their last one in a blazer, she decided to do a little extra. She went out - to a _women's_ clothing store - and got a hot little blue sleeveless number. Jack had told her to dress formally anyway; he was taking her to a black tie affair.

"Wow! Liz! You look... fabulous."

She giggled involuntarily.

It was a birthday party for some sort of European royalty - she had no idea who, even after Jack explained it. It was a bizarre evening. The prince was a grotesque, inbred genetic freak. There were a number of gorgeous women giving Jack eyes, which made her wonder how much he got around. More interesting still, Liz met Jack's ex-wife, who was clearly crazy. Thanks to his competitive streak, Jack reacted to meeting Bianca's fiancee by pretending that Liz was his live-in girlfriend. It was uncomfortable but fun - at least until Bianca attacked her. Despite all the hijinks, though, she'd actually had a really good time.

Jack followed her up to her apartment door without being invited. What did he think he was getting?

"Well, thanks for a fun evening." That seemed like a good way to indicate they were done. "You friend is... interesting."

"The doctors say he's going to live for a hundred years."

She opened her door and Jack strolled in.

"No, please, come in." she added sarcastically.

After a little banter about the encounter with Bianca, and a disparaging remark about Jenna's place, Jack got down to business. Liz couldn't decide if she was glad that Jenna wasn't home or not.

"So your engagement is off?"

"Yeah."

"Who ended it?"

"I did."

"How come?"

Liz was hardly about to tell him the whole truth. "Because you were right the other night. I _can_ do better. So thanks for that."

"I want to thank you, too. For showing me I could have a pleasant evening with a woman my own age."

Liz was a bit irritated at that. "I'm _twelve years_ younger than you."

"A woman your age, then."

Liz nodded at the acknowledgment. They looked at each other for a beat.

Jack drew closer and give Liz a kiss. It felt good, and quickly became passionate, lingering for what seemed like a long time. His hands, originally around her head, moved to her shoulders and down her back.

It felt good enough that Liz panicked a bit.

She took a break. "Jack, wait... I'm not sure what you're expecting, but I'm not that kind of girl."

"What kind of girl?"

"The kind of girl to have a guy up in her apartment on the first date."

"Well, how very lucky for us it's our second." He moved to start again.

She interrupted him. "You know what I mean."

"Are you always this awkward when there's a gentleman at your place?"

She frowned at him.

He drew back. "Relax, Liz. I thought things were going well... but I have no desire to compel you to do something you have no wish to do."

"No, it's not that I don't want...", she started again. "It was going well. It's just too soon." She gave him a hopeful look, hopeful he understood and wasn't too put off by it.

"I understand. I suppose it's time to bid you... goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Jack. And I really did have a good time."

"I did too."

And with that he was gone. As soon as the door was shut, Liz smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "He's a good guy, Liz. Don't Lemon this," she said to herself.

Jack was elated. He was finally getting divorced.

He wasn't sure if it was the girlfriend ruse with Lemon (he thought of her by her last name, although he had to resist the urge to call his date anything other than Liz) or Bianca's own pending nuptials, but she'd folded on every important dispute in the settlement. He was rid of this cancer in his life. He was free.

He wanted to party, and got Tracy to go out with him for a while. But when he started to descend into severe inebriation, Tracy split to see his wife. Robbed of the movie-star glow and with Jack becoming a less and less interesting drunk, the women who had been adoringly listening to them drifted off. He found himself alone.

Jack's thoughts turned to his most recent love interest. There was something about Liz Lemon. She was no Beyonce, but he felt a connection to her on another level. She was not that kind of girl that he would use for a bit and just throw away - she had too much potential for that - but neither was she his other type, the fully-formed super-woman that usually captured his more noble interest. She was in between. If she hadn't quit so hastily, he might have developed a wonderful mentorship relationship with her at work. But that apparently wasn't to be.

His mind blurred by drink, he showed up to her apartment. To say that she was not as well dressed as their last date would be an understatement. It occurred to Jack that in his excitement he hadn't done anything about Valentine's Day. Not that there was enough there yet with Liz to make a big deal out of it.

"Jack, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you."

That was an obvious, and not very helpful, answer. "How come?"

"Liz, I'm divorced."

"I know. You told me that on our date."

"No, I mean, I'm finally, _legally_ free of her. Today." He took her hand and did a little dance with her, as if they were on a ballroom floor. As he dipped her, she caught a whiff of his breath.

"How drunk _are_ you?"

"A lot to very. What do you say, Liz. You and me. Atlantic City. We can be in the crepe line at the Borghata by dawn."

"No, Jack. What's the matter with you?"

"I'm celebrating. I want Bianca to see that I'm moving on."

"What, is she here?" Liz looked behind Jack, nervously, involuntarily clutching her chest. "You didn't bring her along, did you?"

"Do you think I should call her? She'd probably come right over."

Liz's heart broke a little, seeing her new prospect reveal himself to be nothing but a huge pile of baggage. "Jack, this is sick. This whole thing is sick."

"You just don't understand. It's complicated."

"You've got to get out of each other's lives, Jack. Between the two of you, you are 100 years old, and this is not a dignified way for a 100-year-old couple to behave! "

Jack's mood appeared to shift abruptly. "I know, I know."

He looked her over, amorously. "Wanna get some dessert?"

"Go home, Jack."

In too bouncy of a mood to be brought down by this, he was nevertheless a bit disappointed in her. He strolled out her door and resumed his night on the town, ending up at Tracy's hotel room.

**

With Jack forced out of her door for the second time in little more than a week, Liz exhaled and frowned. She'd gotten a little swept up in the possibilities, the hope that he might really like her, but clearly that was a fantasy. She was a diversion to him, feeding some sort of hole in his heart left by his ex-wife.

In truth, she wasn't just letting go of Jack; she was letting go of the idea that she was experiencing a temporary setback, that life in New York held out something better than Dennis and teaching improv.

That night, she sat down with her computer and finally finished that screenplay.

**

He called a couple of nights later.

"Liz- I'm sorry about the other night. As you could tell, I wasn't fully in control of my faculties."

"It's never a dull moment with you, is it?"

"Not if I can help it."

There was a pause.

"I'd like to make it up to you. Shall we have dinner this Friday?"

"I don't know, Jack. I'm not sure I want to get involved with someone who isn't over his ex-wife."

"I assure you, I can keep it together this time."

Liz paused. It's not as if she had something better to do. She might not be in New York much longer, so she might as well try some of its nicer restaurants. And as vices go, it wasn't as if Jack was a _Dateline_ predator.

Probably. She should keep watching that show.

"OK, but only because I love food." As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realized that probably wasn't the most alluring thing she could have said.

**

Jack was going on about something – in fact, he seemed unnervingly aroused by discussing the negotiation he was looking forward to – when Liz had to mention the elephant in the room.

"Jack, I sold a screenplay."

He effortlessly adjusted to the change in subject."Congratulations!"

"And I'm moving to Los Angeles."

Liz hadn't exactly struck it rich. It was an independent filmmaker that had made her an offer. If the film did well she could make serious money and move on to bigger things, but there were no guarantees. Still, it was the next step. There was nothing left for her in New York except for a very young relationship with a very old and very complicated man.

Jack's expression shifted to.. disappointed? "I see."

Liz felt a little bad about it. In the reckless spirit that comes with planning to leave town, she made out with him a bit in the car.

She thought it a nice way to say goodbye. And Liz had already decided that Jack, for all his faults, was hot, so it was fun.

**

Jack was more than disappointed; he found himself positively unsettled by the idea of Liz Lemon leaving his life. What followed was an even bigger blow.

His NBC Fireworks Special had been a complete disaster. In its aftermath, Don Geiss took microwaves away from him. Furthermore, Geiss criticized his personal life, telling him to stop being a playboy and get married.

In a panic of self-doubt triggered by his mentor, Jack grasped for the available options. Any woman that had been worth more than a few weeks of his time had been pretty decisively driven off: Bianca and Condi, most recently. Except one: Liz, where it was promising but early; in any case, she was moving away soon. There was a girl named Phoebe, who seemed cultured and had been very flirtatious with him only a few days before.

It took him only a moment to see that Lemon had more long-term potential than Phoebe, even with how little he knew about the latter. He could picture her on his arm on a night five years from now, sparring with him and not overwhelmed by his wealth, power, and good looks. And in a way he couldn't quite explain, he thought she might open doors for him, too, doors that he didn't even know were closed. It would be a good match.

If she could be persuaded to stay in New York.

It was time for drastic action. He dropped by Cartier to buy something that kept his options open, and called her for another date.

Liz was having a really good time every time she went out with Jack, so she said yes. Given that she was leaving town, she wondered what he thought the point was. Or rather, she didn't wonder, but she knew he wouldn't get _that_ after only two or three dates, especially when there was no future in it. Not that she'd really made that clear to him.

The evening surprised her. Firstly, because he told her to dress casual. Jack didn't know what "casual" meant to her, so she presumed he didn't mean what it usually meant to her - a food-stained shirt and jeans with a hole in them. Instead, she wore a nice skirt and blouse.

"Liz, you should pack a bag."

"A bag? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"Listen, Jack, I'm not sure an overnight trip is appropriate now."

"I'll be as much of a gentleman as you want me to be. Separate rooms, whatever you want. I promise."

There was something about his eyes that made her want to trust him. She threw a couple of items in a duffel and followed him out their door.

**

Liz had presumed he was driving her out to the Hamptons or something, but instead they went to a private airport, where Jack had a jet waiting. As the American mainland receded, Liz realized they were going to Europe. Paris, to be precise.

**

It was quite a 24 hours for ol' Liz Lemon. She wasn't quite as enamored of Paris as most women - she found it kind of cliché, to be truthful – but it did successfully stir romantic feelings in her. Something about his touch was electric. Impossibly charming, successful, almost too handsome, and obviously into her: Liz needed to pinch herself. She was giving this up to shoot a crappy movie?

Yes, she was, she reminded herself . She had too many things to accomplish in life, and was not the kind of girl to be happy as an idle trophy wife, or worse, a rich wife with pretensions she was supporting herself through a ridiculous low-paying hobby like improv, even in the unlikely case that she and Jack were on the road to marriage.

All the same, she succumbed. It was too much to resist him. That afternoon, she started getting frisky in a way that told him it was OK to not be a gentleman. And that night, he wasn't.

**

Jack and Liz strolled the streets of the waking city, holding hands. Liz was wearing a simple black dress, while Jack was in a jacket and slacks. They were going to get something to eat, enjoy a Paris morning, and then fly back to New York.

As they walked, Jack's other hand played with small ring box in his pocket, mulling over whether it was the right time. The date had gone better than he'd dared hope, but he didn't want to wreck it all by pushing too far, too fast. He felt Don Geiss urging him on, but he had to trust his instincts. He knew himself to be an excellent judge of character, and sensed that she would not be the kind of girl to jump at an early proposal just because he was rich, or even because he was so self-evidently awesome. In fact, her unwillingness to be immediately overwhelmed by his charms was one of the things about her that appealed to him.

On the other hand, you never know. And he had little to lose.

"So Liz, when are you moving?"

"10 days."

There was a long, pregnant pause. "Excited?"

"Yeah. I'm ready to be working again!"

"I'm happy for you." Jack's voice revealed that he was not, in fact, happy.

Liz looked at him with equal parts affection and concern. "I'm sorry about the timing of all this."

"Are you leaving because you think this isn't serious?" He looked at her inquisitively as his fingers rolled over the box in his pocket.

"Well, Jack, you flew me to Paris, so I feel like this could be going somewhere. But even if we were in a long-term relationship, I 'd have to do this. A writer has to write."

"You can write in New York."

"Well Jack, I _had_ a pretty good gig writing in New York, but I quit."

"You know, if you'd given me a chance, I think we would have worked well together."

"Maybe. But I'm not sure the work you is like the dating you. I probably would have gone on hating your guts."

"Nonsense. I grow on people."

"Well, I can't argue with that." It seemed like an appropriate moment to stop and give him a kiss, on the small stone footbridge. Kissing him was fun, more fun than kissing had been since... since ever, actually.

As their lips met, the possibilities swirled in Jack's head. Marriage to Liz, right here, right now. Or, a simple goodbye as she went to Los Angeles forever. Or a long-distance relationship, doomed to fail. Or a well-placed call to a contact to sabotage her film deal. Or another option... just coming into focus in his mind. It escaped his lips before he had a chance to reconsider.

"So why don't you come back to TGS?"

She was totally unprepared for that. "Say what now?"

"I have to admit that Kenneth and Frank are not working out... as well as I'd hoped."

Even in this moment, Liz didn't forget her friend. "So you'd bring back Pete, too?"

"You drive a hard bargain."

"You're the one who waited till I was ready to move to make an offer."

This negotiation was getting him aroused. "Yes, Pete, of course."

They started walking again. "If you were my boss... we couldn't do this anymore, right?"

Jack considered for a long moment. Jack had no problem with dating subordinates, but _direct_ subordinates were another matter. Besides, Liz wouldn't want to be the showrunner who got her job back because she was the boss's girlfriend.

Jack calculated the tradeoff in his mind. His libido (and the voice of Don Geiss) were screaming to keep her as a girlfriend somehow. But he felt a stronger pull: to have her with him, by his side. He could find someone else to date, marry even, but he had to have Liz Lemon in his life. And maybe when TGS ran out of gas, circumstances would be different, and he could have everything he wanted.

"Sadly, no."

The two walked silently for a long while through the ancient streets, Liz deep in thought.

**

Aside from chatter about the basic logistics of travel, she didn't address his question for quite some time. It was only as the jet came in over Manhattan, ready for landing at Teterboro Airport, that Liz mentioned it again. She looked down at the skyline, and specifically at the building that had contained so many of her dreams. For almost a year she'd regretted her decision to quit, although pride and fear had kept her from doing anything about it.

She liked dating Jack, but there was just no way to reconcile it with her other goals in life. There was more to her than whomever she was dating at the time.

She knew what to do.

"Yes, Jack."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'll come back to _TGS_." She turned and smiled at him.

Jack smiled broadly, relieved. He'd avoided disaster and preserved what he now knew he had to have, at least for a while. The ring would go in his drawer, in case he needed it.

Someday.

_END_


End file.
